


A Letter to My Partner

by blithelybonny



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Epistolary, Fluff, Happy Birthday Draco!, Happy Birthday Harry!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1747751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blithelybonny/pseuds/blithelybonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry writes a letter to his Auror partner Draco on Draco's birthday, and Draco writes one back on Harry's birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From Harry to Draco

To my partner, on ~~his thirty-fourth~~ the fifth anniversary of his twenty-ninth birthday --

I can just picture you rolling your eyes in that ‘Potter’s such an idiot’ way of yours. I like that about you, you know - that even though it’s been years since we fought about anything more serious than whose turn it was to go interview Mr Giles about his missing crup, you’re still prickly when it comes to me. I don’t suppose that will ever change, and I promise you that I don’t want it to change.

But there is something I want you to know, and I figure that your birthday might as well be the day to tell you. Because if you can’t tell someone how you feel about them on their birthday, then when the hell can you?

I’ve never been that great with words, so ~~I got Hermione to help me~~ bear with me, but here goes.

A list of things that I like about you, Draco Malfoy, my partner and my friend.

1\. Your prickliness - I know I already mentioned that, but it still counts.

2\. The way you always keep your side of the office in that state of madness that only you know how to decipher. Organized chaos ~~Hermione called it~~ or whatever. It’s especially funny because your robes are always so pressed and perfect, and actually, so are your reports and even your lunch-bag is compartmentalized and just so. So your office is the one bit of chaos about you, and I really like that because I get to share it.

3\. You always know when I need an extra cup of coffee, and you don’t even give me any grief about going to Starbucks to get it. I know Starbucks is a chain, and a Muggle chain at that, and I know it’s probably just because you really like that caramel mocha that I made you try the once, but I like that you a) gave it a shot in the first place and b) continue to let me foist my terrible taste in coffee on you.

4\. The way when you’re working on a particularly complex problem, you chew on your thumb. I know you’re going to hate this, but it makes you seem so human, if that makes any sense. It’s like you’re really one of us instead of this lofty ideal of a person. Don’t get me wrong, though, you’re plenty lofty. I just like that you’re normal sometimes.

5\. When we’re practicing dueling in the training room, you always make me do my best. You keep me on my toes and help me hone my instincts, and I really like that. I also know you’re never not going to ask me if I’m scared, and it makes me laugh. But I’m always going to say ‘You wish’. Just so you know that. We’ve got this history between us, and even though about ninety per cent of it is crap, it just makes us better partners. Our trust now is hard-won.

6\. Your secret smile. You know which one I’m talking about, and don’t even pretend you don’t. I know you don’t want anyone to see it, and I love the fact that not only have I seen it, but you’ve given it to me, just me, a number of times. It makes you look, well, it makes you look really handsome. I sometimes wish you’d do it more, but somehow that wouldn’t be as special. I like that I earn it.

7\. There’s this weird little stretching thing you do whenever we’ve been sitting on our fat arses for a long time going over paperwork. You sort of arch your back and twist, and every time I think you’re going to pull a muscle, but you never do. You’re graceful. And every time you do it, I want to go over and rub your back. I want to work out the tension for you because I hate that you even have tension, since it’s usually because of some bone-headed thing I’ve done. I want to run my fingers over the knobs of your spine and find all the little knots in your muscles and get rid of them for you. ~~There’s actually a lot of things I want to rub on you.~~

8\. The way when you’re especially tired, but you don’t want to admit it, you tell me how exhausted I look until I say we should call it an evening. It’s endearing that you don’t want to admit it. It’s even more endearing that you think I don’t notice you trying to manipulate me. I don’t mind that you manipulate me. Do you remember the time you Transfigured me a pillow for my desk when we were working on the McLaggen case? I still have that pillow. It’s my favourite pillow.

9\. Your absolute insistence on always going in first. It’s like you forgot that I’m the idiot Gryffindor who charges in first. I take it to mean that you want to protect me, even though you’d never admit that aloud. When we first started as partners, I hated it. I thought you were trying to prove you were better than me or something. ~~You are better than me.~~ Fuck it, you are better than me, you know? You’ve become so much better than me, at being an Auror, at being brave, at being good. Thank you for looking out for me these last ten years. Thank you for everything.

I’m going to be done with my list now but honestly, I could probably go on and on for another five-hundred pages. Because there’s so much about you that I like. No, there’s so much about you that I _love_. I love you.

Fuck. Draco, I love you.

I know you’re probably going to think I’ve lost my damn mind, but I don’t care. I just wanted you to know. So happy birthday, and I love you. Feel free to do with this information whatever you want. I just really thought it was finally time I told you. ~~I knew there was some Gryffindor boldness still left in me.~~

Yours,

Harry


	2. From Draco to Harry

To my dearest Scarhead, as he joins me in the ravages of middle age -- 

The effect of me writing you a sentimental letter regarding my feelings and affections for you over the last ten years of our partnership, as well as the last seven and one-half weeks of our romantic relationship, is marred somewhat by the fact that you are standing over me and reading each word as I write it. I therefore resolve to write nothing but insults until you leave me in peace.

Your hair is now, and ever shall be, completely atrocious. It defies both logic and the laws of nature. If it were a child, I would send it to bed without supper because of its unruliness and misbehaviour.

I confess that occasionally I dream about attacking you with a Shearing Charm, but as I imagine your head is no doubt lop-sided and lumpy beneath that untamed black mop, a buzz-cut would only serve to accentuate your cranial defects.

I wonder if styling product would actually, physically kill you, such is your aversion to it. Perhaps it would be like that dreadful film you forced me to watch, and if I put any product in your hair, you’ll start to melt. ~~Honestly, witches with green skin. Muggles are so stupid.~~

God, how adorably sensitive you always get about me taking the piss out of you about your hair. And now that you’re gone, I begin.

I am not going to make a list of the things I like about you, even though it was beyond charming that you did that for me. I hope you do not mind. Over the last ten years, I have come to learn that actions speak much louder than words do (and it was largely you who taught me that), and I believe I have shown you over the last few weeks many of the things I like about you. Instead, I am going to take this opportunity to share a story with you. It is something that, I confess, I have long wanted to share, but I have never quite been able to find the right words. It is also something that I think would be easier said in a letter, as I cannot imagine I would be able to get the words out without making a horrid mess of the whole affair ~~or perhaps crying, which I refuse to do, because it is entirely too early in this relationship for you to see me blubbering like an infant … although I suppose you have seen me in a state many times throughout the course of my life, so perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing actually~~.

I have loved you since 8 June 1998. I have no doubt you recall what is so special about that particular date.

I was newly eighteen-years-old and therefore just barely of legal majority. Two Aurors, one mostly decent and the other a complete ruffian, led me through the bowels of the Ministry to the Wizengamot chambers for my trial. I was half-blind with fear, and I tripped over the hem of my robes as I was all-but-shoved into the room towards that uncomfortable chair that they manacled me to a few moments later. The first thing I saw, really focussed on, that is, was you. I saw you sitting there in the gallery, and even though up until that moment I disliked you more than I could possibly say, I just knew that everything was going to be fine. I knew that you were going to make everything okay again.

When you looked me in the eyes and gave me that look, you know the one, the one of utter conviction, I knew that I loved you. I suppose there is that saying about the bare line between love and hate, and I wonder if perhaps I ever really hated you, for all my shouting it from the rooftops whilst we were in school together. But I know with absolute clarity that I began to love you on 8 June, and I spent a not insignificant amount of time from that day on trying to make amends for all the nonsense I’d put you through since we started at school together. I knew I never really could, but I was going to try, come hell or high water.

It was not until 31 July 2010, though, that I fell in love with you.

I saw you sitting there at the Crown & Cauldron, drowning your sorrows through shots of that absolute rubbish Jack Daniels over turning thirty and still not being married to Ginevra or Charles or insert the Weasley of your choice here or having children of your own, and it just suddenly hit me with stunning clarity, again, that my feelings for you ran deeper than just the love of a friend or a brother, as I had come to see you throughout the years of our Auror partnership.

You turned to me and you said, ‘Malfoy, you’re pretty much the best thing I’ve got going,’ and even though I knew you were completely pissed and had no idea what you were saying, I wanted so much to believe it. I wanted to take you into my arms and kiss you breathless. I really wanted to be the best thing you had.

And it was not because you were sad or lonely that I wanted you. It was because you were so perfectly you, even in your moment of sadness. You were still Harry sodding Potter, my partner, turning your perfect green eyes on me and suddenly smiling that brilliant smile and buying me a shot of that foul excuse for whisky and telling me that nothing mattered as long as we had each other to lean on.

There are so many things about you that I never appreciated until I actually got the chance to know you, learn who you are and what you like, but now I treasure them. I treasure every smile, every sarcastic remark, every laugh, every argument, every single second of the time I spend with you. I love you, and I am in love with you.

More than that, though, I like you. I really and truly like you, Harry Potter.

Our road to this moment has been fraught, but as you said, our trust, our relationship is all the better for it being hard-won. I would not trade a single moment of the years we’ve shared together. (Except perhaps for that time you sliced me open, and I know I promised not to bring it up, but I am still _prickly_ , and I know you love that about me.) But honestly Harry, I love the man I have watched you become over the last ten years, and I cannot wait to spend ~~the rest of my life~~ as much time as you will give me with you.

I sincerely hope you are not wearing any clothes right now because I have the distinct urge to ravish you. Do try not to tear up while reading this, as I cannot promise not to laugh at you. ~~It absolutely does not matter that I am teary too.~~ I will meet you in our bed.

As ever, yours,

Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Return to LJ, if you like [HERE](http://blithelybonny.livejournal.com/88072.html).


End file.
